


better not say it

by crystallizer



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Internal Conflict, Kissing, M/M, Torture, honestly i don't know, lowkey lust, poe asks kylo to take off his mask and face him like a "real man", so he does, the entire thing is self indulgent as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizer/pseuds/crystallizer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He felt the strain on his mind melt away, instead being enveloped by a new sensation, one much softer than the last--deep and comforting and strangely familiar, and made Poe crave for more. But as sudden as the kiss appeared it vanished, leaving Poe dizzy and aching with a different ache, one not of pain but of longing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better not say it

The first thing Poe Dameron noticed about Kylo Ren's face when he took off his mask were his eyes. They were physically striking, like an invisible bullet piercing his flesh, over and over again every time they swept to study Poe's various nicks, cuts, burns and wounds, or lingered on his face for more than a millisecond. It was worse when they locked eyes. It was only once, just after Ren removed his mask, and those big, dark eyes met his own, steely and menacing but deep with thick dark lashes that matched his tousled black mane. The impact shot through Poe as if he had been electrocuted, for about the hundredth time today in this kriffing place, except this time it ran through his mind instead of his body. (Save for his chest, which twinged curiously. Poe ignored it.)

The second thing Poe noticed about Kylo Ren was his skin, pale and pulled tight over his high cheekbones, making him look even taller and sharper than he already was. Small moles (or were they freckles? Poe couldn't tell) adorned his paper white complexion. His nose was prominent and his jawline was strong and defined. His lips were rather pink as well, sitting in stark contrast with his pale face. He had bags under his eyes, and Poe briefly wondered whether he got any sleep the night before, whether he slept at all. Did the First Order even allow their servers to sleep? 

The third thing Poe noticed about Kylo Ren was his youth. Poe realized he spent so long gaping at each individual feature he hadn't even taken in the whole picture, and once his eyes finally lifted to meet the man's face in its entirety it hit him rather abruptly that this _man_ was not like a man at all, but more like a child, all large eyes and long lashes and full lips and thick black curls that were slicked from his face and fell around his shoulders instead. He was tall, for sure, broad-shouldered and thin (even if it was hard to tell under the suit), though Poe suspected he was leanly muscled underneath. In another world, another galaxy, Kylo Ren could be mistaken for a teenager, had his eyes shown innocence instead of hatred, light instead of the darkness. But instead the expression he wore was of someone twice his age, the expression of someone who had seen too much, done too much, shouldered too much. In a way, Poe pitied him. But regardless, he was the enemy, no matter how _intriguing_ Poe could possibly find him to be.

"Nothing to say?" The man spoke finally. This threw Poe off guard. His voice was deep, deeper than Poe imagined it would be, but for some odd reason when he talked it made the man grow smaller, not larger. Poe fumbled for a response, but in the end he didn't stray far from his witty personality. "Well, give me a chance to memorize the face of my captor, at least." 

"I am not your captor," Kylo replied, as though amused, but his eyes didn't light up and the corners of his mouth didn't tug upwards like when people were usually amused. The amusement sounded cold and flat and dead. It sounded more like mockery than anything. "You yourself had fallen to the hands of the First Order. The Resistance doesn't stand a chance in the face of our power."

"Did you mean the power you derive from murder? From torture? From the pain and fear of innocent _people_?" Poe spat. He wriggled in his metal clasps, the ones binding his hands and feet to the table. The table shook with his movement, but Kylo Ren remained still, unphased. 

"You are strong, that is undeniable--physically and mentally. But you're stupid. You are clouded in your own ignorance, blinded by your petty loyalty to your false Resistance." Ren spoke casually, as if disinterested, and he leered at Poe with a sense of superiority. 

Anger bloomed hot in Poe's chest, and all previous traces of pity Poe felt for the guy vanished. "You know _nothing_ about me," Poe snarled. "You know nothing about the Resistance!"

The opposing man lifted an eyebrow, and for the first time he moved, clearing the distance between him and Poe within two strides. Poe tensed instantly as he leaned down so his lips were level to Poe's ear, soft pink flesh brushing olive skin, and goosebumps erupted on Poe's arms. A black gloved hand rose to gently place itself center on Poe's chest, but it felt like the impact of a cannon. "But I will soon, won't I?" The man whispered, warm breath curling around his ear, voice low and gentle and almost soothing. 

Poe flinched, hard, the twinge in his chest returning, except now ten times stronger and more of a pounding than a twinge. Poe breathed a sigh of relief when the man finally stepped back, but the pounding didn't stop. He watched, panting, as Kylo closed his eyes and breathed deeply. At first; there was nothing. Then, it hit.

Sharper than a blade, stronger than a wave, harder than a bullet, it pierced and cut and ripped right through him like nothing had ever before. Worse than the cuts, the beatings, the bruises, the shocks he received in the other room, it tore through his body like the thinnest of fabric and targeted his mind instead, every nerve freezing in place as the shock raced up and down his spine and his mind withered rapidly. 

It felt as if Kylo had just cracked open his skull and ripped out his brain right then and there, flesh pulsing and splitting and straining. He tried to fight it, initially, attempting to steel himself, building mental barricades and throwing whatever he could at Ren, useless memories, thoughts, daydreams, emotions--but it was no use. Kylo's power effortlessly cast the information aside, amusement flickering in his eyes as Poe writhed uselessly, sweat pouring down his usually handsome face, windswept hair slicked to his skin. 

Kylo stepped closer to Poe, not because he needed to, but because he wanted to, mystified by his powers in action, how they could cause even the strongest and most loyal of men to writhe and squirm and plead for his mercy. He relished in Poe's weakness to his ability, his feeble attempts to thwart him, the thought he could top them all. 

Poe knew he had to stay strong, for the Resistance, for the General, for himself; but his strength diminished with each passing second and his heart beat rapidly in his chest as his mind pulsed with overflowing memories, some he didn't know he even had--he watched as Kylo Ren's dark eyes lit up in excitement, inches from his, as he drew ever closer, the precious information he needed just out of his reach. Poe was running out of time, out of methods, barely able to focus on anything aside not letting Kylo get the map, he couldn't let Kylo get the map, _don't let him get the map,_ but now even that was proving difficult. His resolve was slipping. He couldn't hold out forever. 

Finally, with the last shred of Poe's strength, spots of color fading in and out of his sight, chest heaving, drenched with sweat, he slammed forward and closed the gap between his and Kylo Ren's lips--and then all was black. 

The first thing Poe registered, through the haze of both his mental and physical pain, were that Ren's lips were soft. _Soft._ He leaned in even more on instinct, his surroundings fading away to nothing and his reality warping and distorting. He forgot who he was kissing, what was happening, where he was, who he was. 

At first, it was as if he was kissing something nonexistent, a figment of his frazzled mind. But then he felt the kiss deepen, the person lean in back, the warmth of their tongue entering his mouth, the feeling of it battling with his. More shocks and chills pierced his body. His heart hammered against his chest. Black and red and blue bloomed before his eyelids like fireworks. The kiss was sweet. He felt the strain on his mind melt away, instead being enveloped by a new sensation, one much softer than the last--deep and comforting and strangely familiar, and made Poe crave for more. But as sudden as the kiss appeared it vanished, leaving Poe dizzy and aching with a different ache, one not of pain but of longing. 

The pain and strain ebbed from his body and he slumped forward, exhausted. Poe could barely manage to open his eyes and face the reality that relented after him without rest, never allowing him peace. He kept them closed for a while longer, to prolong the sense of comfort for as long as he could, but when he finally did open them the sight that met him hit him like a weight. 

Kylo Ren was panting, his face void of color, eyes wide with shock and staring right into his, gaping like a fish out of water. "W-why--" He stuttered, fumbling for words, his expression stunned. It was the most emotion he had shown the entire time Poe was there--he'd laugh if he had the energy. Then, Kylo finally seemed to regain his senses, and the shock melted off his face, replaced suddenly and instantly with rage. His pale cheeks flushed with anger, dark eyes blazing. "You--!" He spat venomously.

"Kissed me back," Poe cut off weakly. Again, Kylo seemed thrown off, and the anger flickered, replaced with... confusion? Fear? "What?" He snarled, and then, Poe found the strength to smile. A corner of his mouth tugged upwards, and his eyes gleamed mischievously. 

"You. You kissed me back," Poe said simply, feeling the grin on his face widen with every passing second. Kylo's expression raced from shock to confusion to anger and back again, his brows furrowed and face red. For the first time since Poe stepped foot in this kriffing place, he had the control, and not just of anyone. He had shaken Kylo Ren himself.

"You were pretty good, too," Poe continued teasingly, musing to himself. "I haven't been kissed like that since I was what, nineteen? Twenty?" Poe recalled the warmth of the kiss, its intensity, its passion, the way Poe melted right into it the second Kylo kissed back. 

Thinking about it suddenly made Poe want to do it again, to feel the other man's lips on his, for the sensation to return and envelop him, for the emotion to blossom in his chest and spread to every limb--Poe caught himself suddenly.

Now it was his turn to be bewildered; that was wrong. He was wrong. He didn't want that. He was caught up in the moment. He wasn't thinking clearly--he was too frazzled, too unstable, he couldn't possibly be thinking right. How could he? He had just had every memory he had gained in his entire life purged from his mind, every detail and event and sequence, big or small, significant or not. He was physically and mentally exhausted, too tired to move, too tired to think.

He snapped out his own thoughts just to look at Kylo Ren, and was startled to find he was staring at him, dark eyes locked on his face, silent and absorbed in concentration. "Something's not right," He concluded finally.

Poe stared at him, confused. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps Poe wasn't the only one who couldn't think right. Then, without warning, Kylo leaned in again, catching Poe off guard as their lips met once again, and it was as a switch was flipped in Poe's head. 

He lost all sense. He lost all thought, as instinct finally took over and he felt himself being pulled back into the blazing depths, oozing lust and want and scarlet passion... but there was a softer side to it, fleeting and almost desperate but undeniably intimate. And just as Poe finally let himself go, embracing the emotion, again it was gone, the spark smothered. He stared at Kylo Ren in a daze, the physical feeling gone but not the emotional. 

_Stop kissing me like that,_ Poe thought frustratedly, his eyes still locked on the other man's lips until they began to move, speaking anxiously. "How do you do that?" Kylo demanded, his brows furrowed in frustration equal to Poe's. "Your intimacy... I saw the light," Kylo went on, but this time Poe suspected his words were no longer directed towards Poe and that, rather, he was talking to himself. "I've been told I do have a way with my technique," Poe snorted. Kylo did not respond. "The pull... it became stronger... no matter how much I suppress it, it's there... it always comes back..." Kylo trailed on, head now ducked, eyes locked on the ground, hair shielding his face from view. Okay, Kylo was _definitely_ raving to himself now.

Nonetheless, Poe listened, half-wary, half-interested in what the maniac had to say. "Maybe... maybe the pull's there, for a reason?" Poe spoke softly, careful not to alarm Kylo in his... er... state. Poe was startled when the man looked up again, dark eyes now shimmering with the faint glisten of tears. 

Poe was even more so when the tears suddenly vanished, quick as they came, Kylo's face now steeling over, eyes hardening. "No," he spoke firmly, as if announcing it to an entire room of people instead of just him and Poe. "No!" he repeated, and his hand shot out, inches from Poe's face, and suddenly he wouldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, his larynx tightening until no sound would come out. Poe gaped like a fish, eyes bulging, struggling for air. 

"The light is _worthless._ It means _nothing_ to me. You..." Kylo's voice trailed off yet again, his brows furrowing in anger, but his eyes flickered in doubt, just for a heartbeat. But Poe saw it. He caught it.

"You mean nothing to me." Ren finished, and suddenly the invisible pressure on Poe's throat vanished. Oxygen blessed his lungs once more; he panted rapidly, heart hammering. It gave him no time to steel himself as Kylo Ren once again entered his mind, the pain rushing back into Poe's body in tidal waves. His mind was sliced apart once again--and this time, there was no stopping it.

Poe was helpless as Kylo's forces drove itself deep into his memories, deeper, deeper, diving into the depths of his conscience before he finally found what he was looking for. He latched on to his prize like a tiger pouncing upon its prey, before ripping it right out of Poe's mind itself. 

Poe slumped in his binds once more, knocked unconscious. Kylo Ren was breathing heavily, his expression panicked, fearful. But he had what he wanted. He always did. 

He stayed in the room for a while longer, his curls plastered to his face with sweat, sitting upon the cold floor, the room's emptiness chilling him to the bone despite his many layers. He used the time to regain his sense, breathing deeply, waiting for his rapid heart to slow.

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out._

It occurred to Kylo that suddenly it was not his own breathing he was paying attention to, but the man in front of him's, unconscious and broken and drenched in sweat and his own blood but _alive,_ heart beating weakly but beating nonetheless.

Kylo stared at the pilot without thinking, memorizing his features, paying great detail to his thick, dark hair (Kylo imagined it usually appeared a lot better than it did currently), strong jawline, olive skin, sporting cuts and bruises of all sizes. Kylo absorbed his muscular build, large, strong hands, full of scars and callouses from years of vigorous training. But most of all he payed attention to the steady rise and fall of the pilot's chest, the one thing pronouncing him to be living, even after through everything he suffered.

Kylo had to admit--the man was strong. Not in the way Kylo was, but strong. He had enforced the struggle in him with that kiss... the struggle between the light and the dark. Kylo's expression darkened, something hot and familiar coursing through his mind. It was rage.

A strange pang suddenly struck his chest, small but sure. Kylo couldn't place it, and after moments of pondering he disregarded it, tossing the emotion aside, along with his anger. There were much more pressing matters to tend to, anyway. He couldn't afford to let his emotions best him, not now. 

Hux was probably throwing a fit right now, seething over impossibly long Kylo was taking. Hux was not a patient man, but at the same time, neither was Kylo. For a moment, the thought entered his mind if the pilot was patient. If he was kind. If he was as fiercely loyal to the people he cared for as he was to the Resistance. If there was someone he cared for right now, waiting back at the Resistance base, wondering when he would return... there it was, the pang again. This time Kylo cursed himself, finally deciding he had lingered too long. Slipping his helmet back on his head, feeling the familiar darkness of the mask shrouding his features once more, shielding them from view, he got to his feet. 

He looked back at the unconscious pilot as he left the room. He had not moved, save for his rising chest that intrigued Kylo so much. A strange, overwhelming feeling took him once again, but it was different than the one he had experienced before, and it was one Kylo knew well. 

The struggle, the constant war that waged inside of him, beneath cloth, beneath skin, beneath flesh. His being. His being that, no matter what Kylo told himself, always took back its word, enveloping Kylo in doubt. For a brief moment, Kylo wondered if this pilot was the light itself, manifested in physical form. If he was an omen. A sign. A choice. If he killed the pilot, would the war end? Would he finally understand who he genuinely was, who he was meant to be?

The lightsaber at Kylo's side seemed almost to vibrate, humming ominously, silently asking to be activated. But Kylo ignored it, burying his thoughts like he so often did. He didn't look back again as he left the room, the information he needed already encased in a mental safe. A decision was made.

And so the war waged on.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i wrote this on a whim bc these two kill me every damn day. i haven't actually written something like this in like a year really so im rusty as hell SRRY but i hope it was enjoyable regardless! (also title was inspired by ferrari by the nbhd)
> 
> also: there are most likely a lot of inconsistencies here that dont tie up w the movie in canon, and ill edit it as soon as i rewatch the movie, but if theres a glaring error that desperately needs to be fixed please feel free to shoot me a message, id appreciate it!!


End file.
